


Patience

by lackluster_lexicon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ankle Cuffs, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackluster_lexicon/pseuds/lackluster_lexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had to have been at least an hour, probably closer to two, since Clint had trussed him up – with a vibrating plug up his ass, a ring around his cock, and a ball gag in his mouth, not to mention the leather cuffs binding his wrists and ankles – and left him on his knees on Clint’s bed to wait until after Clint got back from the firing range, and Bruce was nothing short of desperate."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> Gratuitous, kinky, 5am porn.

Bruce could have wept when the door finally opened. Could have, but didn’t – not unless Clint told him to. He did force himself to open his eyes, however, to look up at the man who as good as owned him, at least for the night.

“Been a good boy?”

The best Bruce could do was inhale through his nose and raise his head in what might have looked like defiance to an outside observer but was really a plea for Clint to finally get over there and touch him already. It had to have been at least an hour, probably closer to two, since Clint had trussed him up – with a vibrating plug up his ass, a ring around his cock, and a ball gag in his mouth, not to mention the leather cuffs binding his wrists and ankles – and left him on his knees on Clint’s bed to wait until after Clint got back from the firing range, and Bruce was nothing short of desperate. Despite the cock ring and his not-unimpressive self-control, he’d come twice already, and was babbling around the gag as soon as Clint shut the door behind him.

Clint dashed across the room and lifted Bruce’s face. He was waiting for Bruce to give him the safety signal – three blinks – and when Bruce made a point of staring back, Clint’s shoulders visibly relaxed as a devious smile crossed his face. He dropped his hand from Bruce’s jaw even as Bruce tried to lean forward and maintain the contact, but even that simple shift in position was too much – he was overly sensitive from coming twice and the bionic plug that _wouldn’t die_ , electrified and keening, and he all but doubled-over as he came again. Centuries passed before his vision cleared, and then, everything was still too sharp yet out-of-focus, and Bruce was only barely aware that his face was buried in Clint’s stomach, a pair of strong hands knotted in his hair. Another moment later and the gag fell to the mattress, and only then did Bruce find it in him to sit up, writhing against the ruthless vibration of the plug and the steadfast hold of the cuffs. He couldn’t have strung a sentence together if he wanted to, but he tried anyway, though he only got as far as Clint’s name and a string of expletives before Clint cupped Bruce’s jaw with both his hands and yanked him up so he wasn’t resting on his haunches anymore. Bruce’s eyes immediately screwed shut as he as good as yelped right in Clint’s face, so he didn’t anticipate the exact moment when Clint’s lips suddenly crushed his own. But god, this was it, this was what he’d been waiting for so patiently, finally – Clint’s tongue and teeth and hands, fuck, his hands, forcing Bruce to stay upright on his knees, to clench around the plug, his nails raking up his back and Bruce was shaking, he couldn’t stay upright for long like this but he would try, he’d do anything and everything Clint wanted –

Finally, mercifully, Clint undid all four of the cuffs, and Bruce immediately locked his arms around Clint’s neck, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his hair and failing as Clint climbed onto the bed. Bruce had to let go then, and he reached back to lower himself slowly against the mattress as Clint pushed Bruce back until he was flat on his back with Clint draped fully atop him. This was hardly an improvement as far as the plug went, though, and Bruce’s hips arched into Clint’s with abandon. Clint seemed to as good as ignore it, his hands returning to Bruce’s hair and directing him to face Clint.

“How many times have you come tonight?”

Oh, shit. Bruce was supposed to answer that, but he’d practically lost count, not to mention that he was utterly incoherent.

“Ha…ah… _ah_ …th…th-three.” For all his genius, he felt as though he’d exhausted all of it on that one response, and he curled his hands into the sides of Clint’s shirt, grasping at his ribs and curling up to burrow his face against Clint’s throat, all but pleading for Clint to just take him already. Clint allowed him to stay there, but only briefly, and then he yanked back on Bruce’s hair. Bruce immediately obliged, though the canting of his hips was well beyond his control now.

He couldn’t be sure, but Bruce was fairly certain Clint had meant to hold out longer. When they’d talked about this earlier, that’s what it had sounded like, anyway. Not that Bruce was complaining; within minutes, Clint was upright and grinding his ass against Bruce’s cock as he pulled his shirt off, and after that Bruce more or less gave up on paying attention to anything except where Clint’s skin met his own. At some point – probably right after removing his pants, though Bruce couldn’t recall with any certainty – Clint moved to sit between Bruce’s legs and raked his nails down Bruce’s ribs and across his ass, where one hand lifted away to take hold of the plug and fuck him with it.

“ _SHIT_.” Bruce’s grasp of the English language returned with a vengeance as he fisted the comforter and wrapped his legs in a vice grip around Clint’s waist. “ _Fuck_ , Jesus Christ, Clint, stop – stop stop please _fuuuck_ ”

Clint slowed his rhythm, and Bruce was vaguely aware that he was waiting for their safe word. He wasn’t going to get it; even as Bruce pleaded for Clint to stop, he hooked his ankles (or tried to) behind Clint’s back and reached blindly for his arms, his chest, anything, any stretch of skin he could reach. Satisfied, Clint finally worked the plug out of Bruce’s ass, though he did take the time to turn it off before tossing it aside. All that left was the ring, and Bruce could easily live with that, especially now that Clint was leaning forward with his hands under Bruce’s knees, trailing bruising kisses up his stomach and chest, biting at his nipples –fucking _devouring_ him, and finally Clint got what _he’d_ been waiting for –

“Clint, _please_ , fuck me.” He wasn’t sure if he’d actually said it – he’d been chanting it in his head for a while now – but Clint’s mouth over his own confirmed it. Clint pulled away, but only an inch or so, and it took Bruce every ounce of strength and coordination he had left to open his eyes and focus on Clint’s face.

“What was that? Didn’t catch it.”

Bruce groaned, tried to buck against Clint again, but this time Clint lifted his hips up and away from Bruce.

“Ah, _no_ , Clint – please, _please_ fuck me, I’ve been so fucking patient and I want you _so goddamn bad_ – ”

He kept begging even as Clint sat up and lifted Bruce’s hips and slid inside of him, and only when Clint was leaning back over him, his chest pressed as close to Bruce’s as he could manage did Bruce finally drop the “please” and switch over entirely to Clint’s name. Clint disrupted his mantra by whispering something in Bruce’s ear, and Bruce could have sworn it took his brain a full five seconds to decipher it.

“Can you wait for me?”

Bruce nodded against the side of Clint’s head – he couldn’t spare any thought to speaking if he was actually going to hold off another orgasm – and held on, blind but bursting with the rush of Clint’s ragged breathing against his ear, with the sound of his own name riding Clint’s voice, with the heat and fullness of Clint inside of him and god, when was the last time he’d felt this _close_ to someone –

Clint’s rhythm faltered and he drew in a breath between his teeth.

“Bruce…ah, Bruce, you with me? Ah – _nnnngh_ – ”

For the life of him, Bruce had no idea what his body actually did when he came – he felt as though he’d somehow imploded and exploded simultaneously, as though he’d dove under Clint’s skin and yet sailed away across the universe – but he did know, once he’d climbed out of the afterglow far enough to recognize his own thoughts, that he was spent for the night, cock ring and biology-defying refractory period be damned. Clint lay half-next-to, half-on-top-of him, and Bruce tried not to jostle him too much as he slid one hand from where it rested against Clint’s side to the damn cock ring.

“You’re never gonna get that off on your own,” Clint mumbled with a sly, sleepy grin.

Bruce tried to respond, but it came out as a mish-mash of vowels, and he had to take an extra few seconds to compose the words before he could get any semblance of them out of his mouth. Clint was right, of course; Bruce couldn’t have sat up against the bedframe, much less worked the slick ring and accompanying condom off without making a royal mess (and thereby defeating the whole point of the condom, which would have been a hell of a mood-killer).

“Help me out, then? Can’t wear it anymore.”

Clint laughed softly and slowly sat upright, taking time to gently run his nails down Bruce’s chest and stomach, all the way down to his groin. He deftly removing the ring and tossed it aside as well, then carefully removed and knotted the condom before dropping it in the trash can by the bed. He then resumed his place next to Bruce with one leg draped over Bruce’s hip and an arm slung across his chest.

“’Zat okay?” he mumbled, his chin nestled against Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce laughed, albeit somewhat weakly. “Were you in the same room that I was? That was very, very okay.”

“M’kay. I jus’, y’know…was worried, ‘cause I lef’ you alone…”

“You came back.” Bruce turned and planted a kiss against Clint’s forehead. “And it was worth the wait.”


End file.
